


Done

by Defnotmeyo



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8183717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defnotmeyo/pseuds/Defnotmeyo





	

48 hours.

He’s had two fucking days. Two days to make and break promises. Two days to tell her how much he loves her. Two days to hold his son. 

“Mulder. You have to go.”  
Two days.

It’s been the gamut. He’s come home (her home) from the bakery, bagels and coffee and dorky smile plastered on first thing in the morning – “Scully! They had the blueberry vanilla thing you love…”

He’s sat on the couch while she takes a fifteen-minute break in the shower.

He’s wiped the kid from top to bottom. His kid. 

“No.”

Mulder is always indignant.

“No. There is a way around this. There must… there is something, somewhere we can go.”

She is crying. And he never could take her tears. She grips his hand, pulls him in closer and nuzzles against his neck. “Mulder. You have to go.”

“So… so this is it, then. A fucking hollow threat. The same fucking threat we get every goddamn day. And you’re running Scully.”

She grabs the bridge of her nose between her thumb and middle finger. “Mulder… this is our son.”

He’s weak in the knees. Since when has everyone had this trump card? It scares him shitless. He never planned for this.

So he Scullys her. 

“Fine. Fucking fine. You say the evidence, the story, is telling me to leave? I’ll fucking leave Scully. But this isn’t my choice. I love you. Don’t you forget that.” He slides by her to the shower and she doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t know what he expected. 

She Mulders him. She doesn’t say a word when he dresses. His shit is packed. He turns to leave. She’s got their son in her hands and Mulder is done. He drops his bags, and himself, and hugs his head to her waist. “Please. Tell me to stay.”

Her hand at the back of his head is feather soft. “Go. I love you. Go.”

She’s gone and the door is closed and there are his bags. 

Years ago, his sister was lifted out of a window by an unseen force. That drove his life. He fought tooth and nail to get her back. He fell in love in Oxford, in the FBI, and then, again. It didn’t matter. His sister was it. “Fox!”

He has a wife now. Not on paper, not by ring, but in life. And she just gave birth to his son. He wants more than anything in his life to tell her in that moment, it’s not Samantha. It’s her. It has been for seven, for eight, years. 

Instead, he drags his bags down the hallway. He already is done. He misses his son. His son’s mother.


End file.
